


Turning Point

by 06seconds_left



Category: Discworld - Terry Pratchett
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2010-07-31
Updated: 2011-07-20
Packaged: 2017-10-10 21:10:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/104315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/06seconds_left/pseuds/06seconds_left
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes, decisions have to be made. The question is who?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The chapters are not necessarily posted in chronological order.

Ankh-Morpork is on fire.

Everywhere, parts of the city are crumbling, once-sturdy stonework now becoming nothing more than brick, debris and dust. Sparks flare into angry flames, burning the skies a deep, fiery red as screams fill the streets; screams and tears and blood.

Above it all, the Patrician watches the plot unfold from his office. Behind him, Vimes has his sword pointed at the pale man, the tip almost touching his nape.

“Do you really believe doing this will end it all?” Lord Vetinari asks quietly.

The commander hardly blinks, expression grim, his sword steady. “Yes.”

“Well then,” he says, turning to face the copper and clasping his hands behind his back, calm in the face of death. “Whenever you’re ready, Vimes.”


	2. Chapter 2

The last few days have been quite normal—for the Watch that is. Someone has been trying to kill the Patrician—again—and now there’s a killer on the loose—again—and the Commander has charged straight into the centre of trouble without explaining anything and is most probably going to get himself arrested. _Again_.

“All in all, a pretty normal week,” Colon summarises, panting for breath. “As they say in the military. Everything is snafu.”

Nobby squints at the sky, jogging alongside the sergeant easily. “Snaphoo? Wassat supposed to be, Fred?”

“It’s a military term,” he says, puffing up as importance coats his words. “Captain Carrot mentioned it to me a few days ago.”

“What does it mean?”

“It means…er.” He frowns, deflating a little as he tries to remember what the lad had said. “It means, ‘Sorry, no apples for you.’”

Nobby blinks. “Really, Sarge?”

“Yep.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.”

“Only I don’t see how apples have anythin’ to do with—”

“It does.” Colon insists, scowling darkly.

An explosion rattles the ground, sending pieces of wood and stonework flying towards them as a building up ahead collapses. Something swoops past them, huge, heavy and invisible. The two watchmen skid to an immediate halt, goose bumps prickling their skins.

There is a long silence.

Eventually, Nobby offers a question. “What was that?”

“Best not to try and find out,” Colon suggests, wondering if it’s safe to start running again yet. “Anyway, we better find Mister Vimes soon. Things are looking pretty bad.”

“Right,” Nobby says, taking a few cautious steps forward. Something crashes to his right and he quickly jumps back, out of harm’s way, before creeping closer to peer around the corner. “Er, Sarge?”

“What is it, Nobby?”

“I think I see him.” He pauses, watching in hushed wonder and the next time he speaks, he’s maybe just a little bit impressed. “And I think he’s stolen the Patrician’s carriage.”


End file.
